


The Gods Must Be Crazy

by sullacat



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Mythology, M/M, Pictures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-10
Updated: 2011-04-10
Packaged: 2017-10-17 22:09:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/181746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sullacat/pseuds/sullacat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Contrary to what most people thought, the gods weren't stuffy, boring old men and women. They loved and fought and joked and hurt, like any other creature that roamed the land, seas, or air. And they didn't hang out on Olympus, at least not all the time. It was generally more satisfying on Earth.</i></p><p>Throughout time, Wisdom and the Sea have fought and loved and lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gods Must Be Crazy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Livejournal's [ST_Respect](http://community.livejournal.com/st_respect/) Event Three prompt - Alternative Universe/Graphics. Winner of the Best AU award! :D
> 
> Only the words are mine. No infringement intended, for entertainment purposes only.

Contrary to what most people thought, the gods weren't stuffy, boring old men and women. They loved and fought and joked and hurt, like any other creature that roamed the land, seas, or air.

And they didn't hang out on Olympus, at least not all the time.

It was generally more satisfying on Earth.

* * *

"McCoy."

Standing on his beach, Leonard was so lost in thought that he almost didn’t hear the young, familiar voice behind him. But he felt that familiar presence, something old and powerful, so he turned and greeted his old compatriot, the Messenger. "Ludo?"

The young face smiled. "I go by Pavel now," he corrected him, moving closer to the older man in a heavy, dark pea coat, trying to stay out of the incoming tide. "I've been in Russia for a while. Now that is a very interesting culture, Leonard. You should spend sometime there."

 _Cold beaches_ , that’s what Leonard thought when considered Russia. Despite its long coastline and pleasantly superstitious fishermen, it always felt like a landlocked nation to him. And the crazy politics for centuries, no thank you. Despite what the others might like to meddle with, McCoy stayed away from civics and governmental affairs. He preferred his cool mornings, his east coast sunrises, his lighthouses.

"What can I do for you?" he asked, knowing this wasn't a social call. He reached down and picked up a starfish that had washed up on the shore last night, and flung him back into the sea.

Pavel’s eyes were amused. "He wants to see you."

"And he sent you?" he wondered, not trusting that smiling young face, still unlined and youthful, even after all these many centuries later. Hadn't trusted him when he called himself Hermes, with those winged sandals. Leonard didn't appreciate Pavel's nasty habit of taking things that didn't belong to him, either.

"I deliver _all_ his messages," Pavel replied, puffing up in importance, "...and it was on my way." Pavel took a few steps back. "It was good to see you," he added, bowing his head deferentially.

 

Leonard nodded once then turned his back to the young man and returned to his beaches. His clouded eyes searched out more of his creatures, any of them that might need some extra help this morning. Pavel wasn't a threat to Leonard, not in any way, and never would be.

Pavel might have his own unique gifts, his own god-qualities, but no one fucked with the god of the sea.

 

But Leonard knew that a summons from on-high was never disregarded, and as much as he hated it, right now, 'on-high' was in California so the Sea rigged up his boat and set sail, down the eastern coast of the United States, past Mexico, through Panama's canal and up toward San Francisco. Leonard always preferred to travel by water, even back in the old days when his boats weren't quite this nice.

He spent one entire century during the late Renaissance tooling around the Caribbean, almost losing himself in the beauty of the crystal blue waters there after that last fiasco with Wisdom, or Logic, or whatever the fuck he was calling himself these days.

But that was a long time ago.

Right now he spent some time heading toward his destination.

One of the better aspects of being a deity was that time wasn't quite as linear was it was for mortals. Inside the confines of his boat, he stretched it out to nearly a week's travel, when in reality (or at least, as real as it was for the deities) it was only a single day's travel for the gods. Of course, it was easier when everyone stayed in Olympus, but after a while it was like a child's summer camp. Gods and goddesses became bored quickly, love affairs blazed and cooled, petty jealousies grew large and unwieldy, and discontent bred fast.

No one really liked Olympus, but right now, that wasn't a problem.

Right now, the god of the sky worked in a skyscraper high above the city of San Francisco, his preferred home.

Leonard walked into the elevator and held his breath, not liking the feeling of being off the ground. He got out, releasing his breath slowly and cursing as he approached the reception area. "Leonard McCoy," he told the blonde at the desk, who pointed to the spacious lobby.

 

From his seat Leonard could see a huge door with a lightning bolt for a handle. **Christopher Pike** , it read in simple bold letters, **Starfleet Airlines** in smaller font underneath. Settling in, Leonard picked up a magazine and began reading.

Then the door opened and War exited the office, an angry look on his face until he spotted Leonard.

"Long time, no see," War said as Leonard stood, offering his hand.

"Hey," Leonard shook his hand. "This some sort of group meeting?" he asked, his eyes back at the door.

But Jim Kirk shook his head. "Nah, just got my ass chewed," he said with a little chuckle. "The big guy doesn't seem to like my latest project."

Leonard frowned. "That shit in the Middle East? That's you?"

"It's progress," Jim told him, clapping him on the shoulder. "No one complained too loud when I got things started in 1066 in England, or in 1776 in the America, or 1789 in France. Everyone thought those were great."

"And I can name just as many of your little revolutions that failed," Leonard snorted.

"You can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs." Jim looked down at his watch, full of spinning planets and symbols. "Got a meeting with someone, but wanna meet for dinner? Catch up on what's going on?"

 

But Leonard shook his head. "Probably not, I gotta see what he wants." Besides, dinner with Jim usually led to shots of tequila and inevitably some coup d'état in a third-world country. "Another time."

Then the door opened, slowly. "I'd better go," Leonard told him, dropping the magazine. "I'll talk to you soon," he added, knowing for them meant 'sometime in the next hundred years or so'.

Jim smiled that dazzling grin of his, and headed in the other direction. Leonard would have liked to talk to him about these latest revolutions, what ideas he had behind them in that tumultuous region, but right now Pike wanted him, so Leonard headed inside, hearing the door close behind him.

He could feel the electricity in the room. "Hello," Leonard said reverently as he approached the only furniture in the room, a huge steel desk with a gray haired man seated behind it, and an empty chair.

"McCoy," Pike said, pointing at the empty chair. "Are you done hiding?" he asked pointedly, a slight accusatory tone.

Leonard straightened in his chair. "I haven't-"

"Do you have any idea," Pike interrupted him, "what's happening out here in the real world while you're out there, still nursing your broken heart?" Leonard glared but Pike kept talking. "People are fucking with this planet, _your_ oceans, specifically, and I need you to get off your ass and start fixing this."

Leonard couldn't pretend that he was unaware, but... it hadn't seemed that bad. "What's wrong?"

"What isn't wrong? They don't know what they're doing to this planet." Pike pressed a few buttons and a view screen opened up on the wall, a series of images flashing across it.

"Atmosphere's getting warm, glaciers are falling off into the ocean, the whole salinity of the North Atlantic is in danger." Pike turned to look at him sharply. "You really haven't noticed it?"

Leonard shrugged, raising his hands. "Noticed, but figured that might just-"

"Because you've got your head under a rock, not seeing how its fucking with the rest of the planet. Messes up the whole global ecosystem, not just your little corner. Whole damn planet's in danger." Pike lifted a mug to his lips, taking a deep drink. "At this rate, they'll have destroyed it all before they figure out how to get off the damn rock."

Leonard didn't know the future, only that Pike had some sketchy idea of what direction they were all heading in, and it appeared to be off-planet, out into the black of space, and that didn't sit well with the god of the sea at all. "Maybe they need a nudge? he asked, trying to be helpful.

"That will happen in due time," Pike told him, his voice going cold. "Your job is to fix this problem, but you can't do it alone. "

"Oh," Leonard said, shaking his head. "Wait, you don't mean-"

"He's not responding to my summons," Pike folded his hands together, a rumble of thunder in the distance, "or I'd be talking to both of you right now."

Leonard didn't say anything, recalling what had happened the last time Pike and Spock argued. San Francisco had recovered, after a few decades began to flourish again, but no one wanted a repeat of 1906.

"Go talk to him," Pike repeated, opening his desk and pulling out an envelope. He slid it over to Leonard. "Come up with some answer to this global warming shit, something that will fix the damn problems before a few people fuck it all up for everyone."

Leonard opened the envelope, snorting at the airline ticket inside. "Thanks," he said, wondering how angry really Pike was at him, and how safe air travel was for him right now. Pike returned to his tablet pad and Leonard left, not quite breathing properly until he was back on solid ground.

 

In the end, he left the airline ticket on a park bench for someone else to use. He stopped off at a store to pick up supplies that weren't readily available to him while sailing (cookies and some new movies that he hadn't seen yet) and headed back to his ship.

 

Everything was better when he was at sea. Leonard sailed down toward Panama, and eventually the Atlantic Ocean and the old world he'd avoided for centuries - and the person he'd avoided for centuries.

* * *

They always seemed to be fighting.

Throughout the centuries, their arguments were legendary. From their first disagreement over early sea mammals to their most famous fight, back when Logic was Athena and he was Poseidon. They fought to be the patron of the city that eventually became Athens. Logic usually won, and the Sea usually stormed off, bitter and vengeful and angry.

But they could work together when they needed to. The Sea created horses, but Wisdom made the chariot.

After that they spent many years together, idyllic times that never lasted. Logic calmed down the storms that rumbled inside the Sea.

In turn, the Sea showed Logic so many wondrous creatures that simply should not be - but existed nonetheless, and made the world more beautiful.

When they worked together, they created plants, animals, island paradises. When they fought, they destroyed everything they created.

Leonard thought about them on the trip over the Atlantic. Why it was so hard. Why they couldn't seem to let the small things go, why everything had to be a fucking contest.

Last time they saw each other, they fought over Hephaestus and his tools, preparing to change the world with his new kind of revolution, an _Industrial_ one - something that would have more impact on the planet than any of Jim's little wars. Spock called it progress, Leonard called it genocide - and things got ugly after that.

They fought. Well, Leonard fought, raged, shook while Spock stood there, matching him point for point until they both felt the city shake around them. Soon after Leonard left, but not before causing such havoc to the coastal cities of his beloved Mediterranean, a flood that devastated several countries, ruining crops and killing thousands. For the first time, Leonard saw what his actions created. He took one look at what he'd caused and _really_ understood the impact of his anger.

So he left, sailed out toward the new world, and made a new life for himself in the colonies. Leonard hadn't been back to the old countries since.

He was heading there now.

 

* * *

Of course Spock was in the old lands. Word was he never left anymore, not since that incident with Pike. He waited for the students to come to him, and they did, as they had for millennia.

 

Leonard stood at the top of the amphitheater and waited for Spock to acknowledge him. He could see the man's stance change, shift, and after he finished speaking to his students, he turned and raised his head and looked up at Leonard.

Leonard left soon after. He knew where to find Spock later, so he stopped off and had some saganaki, because he loved that shit and couldn't find it anywhere in North America that tasted this good (well, maybe in Manhattan, but Leonard hated going there.)

 

 

Spock lived in a modest-enough dwelling, stark and clean, lots of sharp angles and straight lines.

Leonard had let himself in and was mixing himself a drink when Spock arrived.

 

"Good afternoon," Spock greeted him coolly, dropping his satchel and walking toward Leonard, as if they had seen each other yesterday, not centuries ago. "What brings you here?"

"He asked me to talk to you," knowing he wouldn't have to clarify who 'he' was for Spock. "Said that some shit's been going on and we need to fix it, together." He spent the next few minutes repeating what Pike had said, as well as what information the dolphins had confirmed when he spoke to them.

The salinity of his oceans was changing.

Spock, however, didn't seem as concerned. "I would have thought, Leonard, that this wasn't a surprise to you. It's not exactly cutting edge science, even for them," he said, with that familiar and disdainful tone for mortals.

"Regardless, I'm noticing it now." Leonard crossed his arms in front of him, waiting for Spock to continue.

"Perhaps... it is not such a terrible thing to happen to humankind."

"Spock-"

"Leonard, this might be a pointed lesson for them. You've always been so tenderhearted where they're concerned. Clearly they can't be trusted with keeping their home tidy-"

 

But Leonard interrupted him. "We've saved them from less before, and you know it. " The bubonic plague hadn't just up and gone on its own, influenza was no longer on its way to killing the entire population of the planet, and Leonard wasn't even going to mention every time they cleaned up after War's mess.

 

Spock didn't answer, merely examined his fingernails. Leonard shook his head, wondering why anyone would think this would be a good idea. He stood up, angry. "You're judgmental, you know that?" he bit back. "Critical and cold, like the sharks deep in my oceans."

"And you would know about depths, wouldn't you, Leonard?" Spock replied with a careful sharpness in his voice that few would notice unless they knew him well. "So calm and repressed on the surface, unable to express your emotions in any way other than a hurricane or tsunami. Let your anger speak for you, rather than explain yourself to me... or anyone." Spock stood, meeting Leonard eye to eye. "Why are you really here?"

But Leonard didn't want to explain anymore. He could feel the storms building inside him, that anger that only Spock seemed to engender in him. So he turned, heading toward the harbor and his boat, to prepare for his long journey home.

* * *

  
Leonard was making knots in his ropes, a nervous habit, when he felt Logic approach. Peering out over the side of his boat, he could see Spock, in more casual clothing, standing in the harbor where Leonard had docked that night.

He stepped out onto the deck. "Hey," he said, heading toward Spock.

"Leonard," Spock answered quietly, stepping onto the boat. "Can we talk?"

Leonard led him toward the back of the boat, where they were out of the slight breeze that was getting stronger as the sun began setting. He waited for Spock to sit, then found a spot on a bench near him, still not speaking.

It was another minute before Spock spoke. "You understand why Christopher sent you, correct? He has other people to send messages, he did not need to send you."

On some level Leonard knew that. "Yeah, I guess so." Pike did nothing without a plan, never had. "He wanted us to talk again."

"I admit the global warming problem was a rather inventive ploy on his part," Spock said, leaning back. "But in all seriousness, that is something that he could handle on his own, were he inclined to do so."

Leonard felt his face go red. "I do need to look into that," he admitted. "I guess my heads just not been in the game recently." So much wrong had been going on, while he'd been moody, moping. There was guilt, something that didn't happen often to the gods of old.

"I know... I haven't- well, you heard about what happened with Christopher." Spock looked down, ashamed. "I admit, perhaps I have not been content since last we spoke." Their eyes met, something warm and tender passed between them, an emotion that maybe no other being, immortal or not, had ever seen. "I like your boat, Leonard. A bit different from the first one I made you."

Leonard laughed to himself. Wisdom had indeed made the first boat to sail on his seas, small but serviceable until she perfected it. A simple craft, made of reeds and papyrus. Leonard still had it, tucked away in his lighthouse.

Over the years, he always had one of his boats, made Leonard feel better. Protected, somehow.

Perhaps he appeared lost in thought, because Spock reached for his hand, to get his attention. "Allow me to help you with this."

"You'd have to leave your home," Leonard said.

"No, I wouldn't," Spock replied, a hint of a smile on his face. "But I will. I have missed our conversations, old friend," he added, his voice low and quiet. "Despite knowing how they eventually end, I have desired to talk to you for so long now."

"I know I'm difficult," Leonard shook his head. "Hard-headed, easily irritated. I'm sorry, I just - why does this have to be so hard for us?" Leonard asked, moving to sit closer to Spock, lacing their fingers together.

"I have considered this. Perhaps... we had to learn what is was like to be alone." Spock gave him a rueful look. "I am not easy either, Leonard, I know this... but I cannot change who I am. This is me, critical and cold, just as you said, like the deepest parts of your oceans."

There was so much more to Spock than that... "But that is where the most beautiful creatures live," Leonard told him, turning toward him. "Those are my most favorite parts of the ocean - and my lighthouses."

"I want to see your lighthouses. Take me there."

"Tomorrow," Leonard stood, pulling Spock to his feet. "Tonight I have other plans for you."

  


* * *

And so Logic and the Sea sailed west, and settled for a while along the east coast of the North American shore.

They visit Olympus now and then, and while Spock doesn't think combing the beach in the mornings for lost starfish is very logical, each dawn he joins Leonard, flinging several of his own back into the water.

Right now, life for them is very sweet.


End file.
